


In Sickness and In Health

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, He and pete have issues, Helicopter Parent Tony Stark, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Infinity Gauntlet, Mushy, Other, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Feels, Tony and avengers are complicated, Tony wielded the magic gauntle, WIP, please comment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 23:02:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16880922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tony Stark wanted Peter to be better than him.But it's hard to beat someone who had brought half the population of the universe back from the dead.





	In Sickness and In Health

Peter Parker was cold, which wasn't anything new. Peter had been cold ever since the radioactive-spider bite. Longer, if he was honest to himself.

 

Lately, lying to himself was easier. He could say he was cold when he became Spiderman because arachnids can't thermoregulate and he was damn lucky that he had his ears, nose, fingers, and toes each time winter would roll over.

 

But that was the cold he could fight. What he felt now, every day since Thanos had turned half of the population of the universe into so much beach sand, wasn't a cold he could shake off.

 

It was bone deep, _soul_ deep.

 

"What time is it, Friday?" Peter asked in the darkness of the night, his eyes trained on the on the white silhouette of the ceiling. He guessed it's another one of those nights, a sleepless one.

 

"It's 4:48 AM, young sir. It's been 78 hours since you last slept," Friday states a matter-of-factly.

 

Peter grumbled and rolled off his bed, enclosing the blanket around him like the world most comfortable cape. He yawned as he shuffles towards the door, Friday vexing him to sleep but he just waved her off just like the previous nights. Stepping into the corridor, the freezing floor stung his feet and Peter reminded himself to tell Tony to invest in home-slippers. This part of the tower had always been barren and cold, especially recently because all the rest of the Avengers had been moved to the east wing of the tower where they won't bother Tony. Peter will never let them bother Tony and if they do, they can catch these white fists.

 

Peter let out a huge yawn as he enters the common area and heads towards the coffee machine, his hearing picks up the clinks of metal from the floor below and makes two cups instead of one. Dum-E hits the side of his legs as an attempt to get his attention, he chuckles and handed the robot a fresh cup of coffee.

 

"Give this to Tony," he says to Dum-E as he waits for the next mug. "I'll join him in the lab soon,"

 

Dum-E scurries away. Peter followed soon after, leaving the blanket on the couch to be taken later and the empty mug in the sink.

 

Tony sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his stomach, trying to look intimidating as Peter crossed the threshold of the lab. The older man gave him a pointed look but didn't reprimand him of his awful sleeping habits. Besides, they both know that Tony sleeps less than him. _Sometimes_. Not always.

 

He flexed his left hand, trying to get the feeling back into it. It was perpetually numb. A side effect of wearing his infinity gauntlet. Another scar from saving the world. It was the other reason he wore long sleeves all the time; the scarring was horrific, and he was the man who was used to scars. Another reason is that because it's simply winter and he doesn't like the chill.

 

Peter's eyes follow the movement of his left hand, probably enthralled by the sight of its grey skin, like ashes. Tony sighed and tucked his left hand under his right arm to hide it away. A fruitless endeavour, but he tried anyway. They hardly have any interaction ever since Tony wrenched everyone back from the soul realm and if they did, it's all about Thanos, the war, the stones, _Vormir_ , Titan, and honestly, he was tired of it. Tired of the way that he and Peter can't be in the same room without seeing each other dying.

 

But they still try, nonetheless.

 

Tony cracked a grin, looking at the heavy bags under Peter's eyes and the exhaustion weighing all of his limbs. He feels guilty. "Can't sleep, Spider-kid?" he asked in a joking manner.

 

"Nightmares," Peter answered without breaking any stride, _except it haunts me even in my waking hours_. "You?"

 

Tony chuckled as he stood up, his sleeves covering his left hand out of sight, out of mind, and ruffles Peter's hair with his other hand, halting for a moment before retracting it back. The answer to that question is obvious, too obvious really. Tony never have any peaceful dreams, not since the first invasion, not since the Avengers and not since Ironman. _Not ever._

 

"Let's go watch movies," he said instead, walking towards the elevator with Peter following him.

* * *

 

  
They share the blanket that Peter had previously left on the sofa while watching Pacific Rim, continuing the part that they had stopped the previous day. Peter's coffee-addled mind began to kick into higher-gear as he watches a giant mecha-bot fighting an enormous kaiju that reminds him too much of Godzilla. He hears it before it happens, the diminishing sound of Tony's heartbeat and the steadier exhales, and not long into the movie, Tony Stark finally sleeps. He paused the movie and saved it for the next day, his mentor lasted twenty minutes before sleeping today whereas yesterday was thirteen minutes. Peter can't say that he's proud.

  
  
So he listens to Tony's steady heartbeat, hoping that it might put him to sleep and end his misery of staying awake for three days straight. But not soon after his slumber, Tony let out a high-pitched whine and Peter was pulled out from whatever illusion of sleep he was having to quickly come to his mentor aide. Night terror. Sometimes he wants to show this side of Tony to the Avengers, to the world really, that Ironman is capable of being hurt too so lay off. But of course, _he can't,_ Tony will murder him if he does.

 

"Mr.Stark," Peter calls to try and calm down the now screaming man. It's good that the compound is sound-proof, but not good if Tony accidentally kills him in his fits. Rhodey already has to live with a new scar on his cheek from it. "It's okay."

 

"No," Tony shouts, tears falling from his eyes, his hands tightly gripping Peter's wrist and it took him a moment to realise how cold his left hand was, " _I can't_. I can't, Peter."

 

A complicated emotion roused from his chest at the mention of his name, at the fact that the caused of Tony's reoccurring nightmare is him. For a moment, Peter felt like he was on Titan again, the sky over his head, Tony near the horizon with a blade in his stomach and he had been far away, so far- He shook his head to push away the memories, reminding himself that Tony needs help and this time, Peter is there to help him.

 

"It's not real, Mr.Stark," Peter says louder this time, feeling, Tony relaxing under his hands. "I'm here with you,"

 

"I can't do it. I-I won't. I will never do it," Tony cries.

 

Peter feels helpless like this, especially when he feels tears running down his face and sobs that threatens to rise up from his throat. He can't even help his hero. He's useless. Peter never wanted to be the reason behind Tony's pain.

 

"It's okay, Mr.Stark," he breathed, forcing himself not to cry. "I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you anymore,"

 

A couple of minutes later, he hears him calming down and he returns back to his seat beside Tony, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, his even breaths and the miniscule whirs of his arc reactor. Peter tries to close his eyes and sleep, but it never came to him. He can't help but giggle at the irony, his sleep-deprived causing him to feel a bit insane, he can't believe that he's starting to develop a sleeping hygiene that is worse than Mr.Stark.

* * *

 

  
_"Hey, Karen,"_

 

"I'm here, Peter," her calm voice entered his ears.

 

Calm, unlike the turmoil of emotion he's currently feeling. It's 11:49 PM which is eleven minutes away from his curfew, his aunt is working outstation in Canada for the next month so until then he is under Tony Stark's custody.

 

"So...Uhm...is Mr.Stark still awake?" Peter asked nervously as he scaled the side of the tower, the compound is only a few more floors above him.

 

"According to Friday, Tony is sleeping in the lounging area,"

 

Peter cursed in his head as he realised that he had to go through the living room in order to go to his room. Tony is hopefully, dead asleep, so Spiderman can quietly and slowly crawl to his room in order to wake his mentor up. He can do that. Stealth is his middle name.

 

Once he reached the window pane of the floor to the common floor, he gently used the tip of his sticky fingerpads to slide the window open and scurry in. Peter closed it back slowly.

 

"Welcome back, Spiderman," Friday greeted him in a quiet voice.

 

"Thanks, Fri," Peter whispered in return as he walks towards the lounging area.

 

"It's the basic of hospitality to greet people, young sir,"

 

Peter chuckled at the remark. He looked at Tony and he let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding. Tony was sprawled on the couch with hills of pillows surrounding him, his arc reactor cast a soft glow to the dark room and he was still wearing the 'Don't trust any atoms. They make up everything' shirt that Rhodes had given him a month ago. He looked peaceful, almost, if the observer didn't know him but Peter knew the telltale sign of dark circles under one's eyes, the wrinkles on the forehead and the heavy breathing; exhaustion. Sometimes Peter sees himself in Tony.

 

"How long has he been sleeping?" Peter inquired as he continues to stare at Tony, that complicated feeling blooming in his chest again. He hates it, _hates that feeling._

 

"Three hours, Peter," Friday replied instantaneously, "He was waiting for you,"

 

Peter decided to carry Tony back to his room so he can sleep peacefully in his own bed and not succumb to back problem in his forties. For a moment, his mind wanders back towards a time before the invasion, before Thanos, where the only thing that troubles his mind was malicious men with too much power and now, he and Tony can't see eye to eye without feeling as though they were back on Titan, one of them dead and the other dying. They talked more back then, when the tower was filled with silence that desperately needed to be filled by the mentor and his mentee. Lately, even maintaining prolonged eye contact was impossible. Even Ned noticed that problem and he hadn't even seen Tony yet, let alone seeing the interaction between Tony and Peter.

 

Being Spiderman means that the weigh of a grown male won't stop him from carrying one in his arms or walking through an unilluminated corridor without needing light, but it also means hurrying because he could hear Tony's accelerating heartbeat and his pained breath. The significant sign of night terrors that is unique to Tony Stark. Quickly, he opened the door to Tony's room and gently laid him on his bed, wanting to _leave quickly before-_

 

A pained cry left Tony's mouth. His delicate hearing picking up the hastened heartbeat that was fast, too fast, Peter was afraid that it might pop. It was the same rhythm again as when they were fighting Thanos, fleeing from pieces of a moon and the panic when Thanos addressed Tony, a part of Ironman's armour in his hand. At that time, he couldn't differentiate Tony's heartbeat with his own. Everything happened too fast and Spiderman was too far away to stop that monster from stabbing his hero.

 

"I'm here kid. I'm here-"

 

_No.No.NOnoNonOnonotagain._

 

"Mr.Stark," Peter croaked out as he closed his eyes, he sees the red sky, only the sky. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,"

 

Struggling to breathe underneath his mask, he tore it away and throw it towards the corner of the room and crouched on the floor, his face buried in hands as he listens to Tony's erratic heartbeat and his desperate voice. Trying to use it to pull himself away from his imagination. But Peter is still on that barren planet again, he feels it in his legs first, before collapsing onto the ground and then, it was his very being of atoms ripping away from one another, ashes by ashes, dust to dust. Mr.Stark is above him, expressions racing through his face, confusion, fear, _pain-_

 

"I'm sorry," he says, nails digging into his flesh. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, sir, I don't wanna go-"

 

"Kid. Kid! it's me."

 

Suddenly, Peter is back in Tony's room, Tony is in front of him with a frazzled expression with red-rimmed eyes and- oh. Peter looks at Tony; Tony looks at Peter. Both of them are different people and yet, they are seeing the same thing.

 

"It's okay, kiddo," Tony says in a tremulous voice, wrapping his arms around Peter. "I'm here,"

 

Peter let out a shaky laugh as he rested his head against the older man shoulder. "Does this count as a hug,"

 

"Don't let me take it back," Tony threatened, Peter hugged him in reply.

 

_It was warm_

 

"I'm taking all the hugs I can," Peter cheekily replied and hummed in order to be louder than his thoughts. The silence is finally broken but there's still tension in the air, a heaviness that he tries to ignore. "Mr.Stark," he calls in a brittle voice.

 

"I told you to call me Tony,"

 

"I'm sorry," _that we're like this._

 

"I'm the one who should apologise,"

 

Peter didn't remember much of what happened the night or when he changed from his Spiderman suit into his pyjamas nor how he has gotten to his room. He would probably look into Karen's footage later. But the next morning, he had woken up by his alarms before going into the mind-numbing ritual of preparing to go to school. That is until he remembers that the government decided that school would start this January to sort out things.

 

He never expects much in the morning because no one ever visits their side of the tower except Rhodey -he only visits once every few months- and Tony is usually either asleep or in the lab -or both-. So it was an understatement of the century for having a miniature heart attack when he sees Tony in the kitchen, wearing a pink 'Kiss the Cook' apron over his black science joke shirt that he had worn last night and even the night before, the smell of bacon and omelette permeating the air. Peter rubbed his eyes to make sure he's not hallucinating and when nothing changed, he pinched his arm to make sure this is not a dream.

 

Tony beamed at him when he turned back to see a surprised Peter Parker. "Come on, underoos, have your breakfast." he plopped a plate of hot, steaming omelette on the table and who was Peter to resist free food.

 

"Good morning Mr.Stark," Peter greeted as he took a seat and shoved the food into his mouth,

 

Tony rolled his eyes. "It's Tony,"

 

"I can't call you that," was Peter's indignant response to Tony.

 

"And why's that, hmm?"

 

"Because," Peter screeched, the tip of his ears burning with red. Tony clearly enjoys watching his kid's mind short-circuit. Peter avoided his eyes and mumbled quietly, "You're like a father figure to me,"

 

Tony was at a loss for words.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this story and please comment so I'll know if there's anything I need to correct in my writing.


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